It was nearly mid-day when Jeffrey heard McKale clamber out of bed. Having not heard the master/mistress enter the house before he fell asleep (H.G Wells propped open on his face from a dashed attempt to stay awake until McKale returned), Jeffrey didn't bother waking him/her at the usual hour. There was a considerable amount of banging and thumping before the master appeared in the library hall, rubbing sleep out of her (or perhaps his, McKale was still in night clothes after all) eyes.
Jeffrey looked up, Good Afternoon, Miss. Shall I make breakfast?"
McKale yawned and bobbed her head sleepily, shuffling into the room and plopping down in her favorite armchair. She curled up, snuggled her robe closer to her body, and proceeded to catch a few more winks beside the books.
Jeffrey shook his head and stood, Eggs and bangers, Miss?"
"Mm," grunted McKale.
"Very well, Miss," he slipped out of the room.
McKale cracked open an eye as he left, yawned again, and sat up.
The night before had been both tiring and tedious, something that very rarely happened at parties McKale attended (especially as Mr.McKale, as Ms.McKale had a habit of being rather meek around gentlemen, while Mr.McKale was much more outgoing with both genders). After the confrontation with Wilbur....
Well, lets just go back a few hours and see.
.:.:.::.:.:.
The clock struck six as Wilbur strode away, leaving McKale alone and a little bit miffed. He clutched the pocket watch, tangling his fingers with the end of the chain. It wasn't fair. What with Wilbur thinking he could go about demanding McKale not to use the watch. It was his watch now, and he'd bloody well use it if he pleased. Honestly, there wasn't anything wrong with retrieving a few of the promised payments from this-or-that time thingy. Why did he have to go all the way to another planet when he could just...twist a few knobs and press a button. Wilbur was being ridiculous!
"McKale!"
Said person whipped about, a deliberate frown on his face, but upon seeing who it was he wiped it off rather quickly like,"Ivor! A pleasure to see you, old chap."
"Old Chap? the man, all pale, smooth skin, like ivory or bone, smirked a little as he approached. He sauntered closer to McKale, wiggling his hips a little as he did so, Thats a silly name for me, isn't it?" He grazed his knuckles over McKale's cheek, I apologize for this morning, didn't mean to be quite so noisy."
"Ha-ha," McKale's eyes twinkled, Not a problem, love, not a problem. Gave poor Jeffrey a bit of scare, poor bloke."
Ivor's nose wrinkled, He deserved it. Barging in on us like that. Didn't see you, did he?"
"Hm? No, certainly not." Music struck up behind them, soft and soothing. McKale smirked and lowered himself to a bow, lavishly offering his arm to Ivor,"Care to dance, love?"
"Oh!" Ivor chuckled girlishly, fanning his face like a lady, Always! Dear, gallant, McKale." He slipped his hand into McKale's and the pair of them slid together at a beat. They swayed in silence before Ivor picked up the conversation again, Who was that porkish fellow you were talking to?"
"Wilbur Winquist,"said McKale, frowning again.
"My! What a peculiar name!"
"Even more peculiar person, love. Not the sort to be-"
"You!"
Ivor and McKale jumped and swung around. Standing some ways off and quite obviously fuming was a Greek-ish looking chap, sporting meticulous hair and rather casual clothing for such a formal party. McKale instantly took a dislike to him. Not that he would have under normal circumstances, but he hadn't been having a very good night, and having his dance interrupted (with the lovely Prince Ivor no less!) was not making him any bit happier.
Ivor extracted himself from McKale's embrace, a blush darkening his cheeks. He rushed toward the other man,"Rtru!"
"Don't you 'Rtru' me you s-" the Greek-ish man did a double take. His gaze snapped from Ivor to McKale then back again, What..." He shook his head, squeezing his eyes tight, then looked again.
McKale coughed a bit, forcing his annoyance down, and approached the stranger. He managed to force a brilliant, toothy grin and started to bow in greeting. The Greek Rtru stopped him, gripping his shoulder and forcing him upright again. He slipped closer, forcing McKale to step back.
"You..."he started, a little less angrily this time.
"I, said McKale, grinning falsely still. Resisting the urge to bow and flourish, he continued, Am Sir Tiern-"
"You're exactly the same...." started Rtru, stepping back and snapping his gaze between the pair again. He gaped open-mouthed, before it became apparent to him that he looked rather dimwitted like that, and shut his mouth with an audible snap. He gritted his teeth loudly, snatched up Ivor arm, and proceeded to drag him away, muttering something about relatives and genes.
McKale started, "Hold up there, Chap! Wait, wait one minute!"
Ivor glanced over his shoulder apologetically, shrugging a little before he, too, became nothing but a (very white) shape amid the crowds.
McKale's shoulders slumped.
.:.:.::.:.:.
It had been quite the unusual experience. He and Prince Ivor, exactly the same? The poor fellow must've been blind! Ivor was all...tall and beautiful, with skin like proclian and a dress sense that spoke of cold winter nights and all that. And Ivor certainly didn't have any problems with sight, or what.
The poor bloke was utterly blind.
Jeffrey poked his head in the door, Miss?"
McKale's head popped up, Yes, Jeffrey? Is breakfast done?"
"Indeed, Miss."
"Right ho, then. I'll be down in a minute."
"Very well, Miss, Jeffrey dipped his head and backed out the room.
Suddenly remembering Wilbur's errand, McKale shoved herself out of the chair and shouted, Hold up, Jeffrey!"
"Yes, Miss?" Jeffrey's narrow face slid back into view.
"Would you mind packing our bags, Jeffrey? We've got somewhere to go, old chap, and rather shortly too."
Jeffrey pressed his lips together and moved the rest of him into the room, The watch, Miss?"
"W- Oh, no. None of that. Not right yet, anyway, she sighed, shoulder's slumping, Were going to Star City, Jeffrey. Space travel and what."
Jeffrey's brow shot to his hairline, Indeed, Miss?"
"Well...yes. I've a few errands to run, she straightened up again and trotted forward, Is that French toast I smell, Jeffrey?"
"Indeed, Miss, it is. And you abhor space travel, Miss. Are you certain you cannot contact someone else to run the errand for you? I would be more than happy to-"
"No, no, Jeffrey, I've got to go myself. Well, with you with me, of course, but it's all the same, she squeezed passed him, Now I think I'll have a bit of that breakfast, if you don't mind."
"Very well, Miss."
.:.:.::.:.:.
I was not incorrect in saying my employer despises space travel. She/he had gone with me off planet but once, in order to meet with a relation. We did not make it half way to the next planet before he/she ordered the ship around to return to earth. Something about the experience had him/her feeling particularly ill, and she/he shook horribly as I helped her/him off the shuttle. He/she vowed never to set foot off earth again.
With this is mind, one can certainly understand how surprised I was at my master/mistress' declaration of space travel. Normally he/she would jump at the chance to have someone else run the errand for him/her. I was utterly mystified by his/her actions and did not know quite what to do. I could not think of a single thing that would make master/mistress McKale desire to leave earth.
Except the watch. Which, in turn, meant Wilbur Winquist.
Speaking of mister Winquist, I failed in my attempt to contact him whilst my employer was out. His phone number was not located in the directory, and the other Winquist's I called hadn't and idea of whom I was speaking about. Apparently W.W was of no relation to anyone in London.
I was left with no routes to follow in the sorry case of my employer, so I would have to resort to something I truly did not wish to do.
I would have to invade my employer's privacy even further.
Mistress/Master McKale does not like having his/her privacy invaded.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Not an hour later McKale and Jeffrey found themselves seated in a shuttle, floating smoothly through the pitch black emptiness of space. Jeffrey, although not one to complain, was feeling a little queasy himself, though not for the same reason as his employer. As it were, McKale (now donning a handsome Edwardian dress), was clutching his arm with such velocity that it had lost all feeling except for the painful tight sensation of burning that sparked directly beneath the lady's vice-like fingers. He's have bruises when she finally let him go.
"How far is it Jeffrey? Do you think it's far? How fast are we going, Jeffrey? How far do you suppose Star City is, what-ho?" McKale babbled senselessly. Jeffrey's ears were beginning to sting as well, but there was nothing he could do about.
"Oh dear," McKale's hands fluttered to her mouth. She looked a bit green about the cheeks, Jeffrey, old dear, think you could close the window, what?"
"I apologize miss, but it appears the windows have no coverings."
"Ah,"she squirmed in her seat, I think I'll just shut my eyes for a wink then, what." She squished herself closer to Jeffrey and propped her cheek up against his shoulder. She scrunched her eyes shut.
The shuttle slowed noticeably (which, as it were, was an odd sensation of speeding up, rather than slowing down. Quite comparable to the airplanes of long ago).
The intercom crackled. "Attention all passengers. We are now docking in Star City. Please remain in your seats until the doors to your left and right have opened. We hope you have enjoyed your flight."
The shuttle dropped with a slow exhale, and the doors on either side of the passengers flung themselves upward.
McKale's eyes squinted open, Have I survived, Jeffrey?"
"It would appear so, miss."
"Ah,"she coughed a little, and eases her grip from Jeffrey's arm, Very good then." She stood, wobbling about on shaky legs, and tottered into the hall. Jeffrey joined her shortly, rubbing his arm through his jacket. He retrieved their luggage from beneath the seats and hurried toward his employer. Before reaching her he quickly transferred the luggage to his smarting arm and tucked said appendage behind his back, offering her the opposite. She took it with an oblivious grin. They sauntered out of the craft.